Blood and Shadows
by the wind in my sleeves
Summary: Ten years after Harry Potter is accused of the mass murder of thirty muggles and mysteriously dissapears, Fred and George Weasley stumble on someone they never thought they'ld see again.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first try at writing fanfic, and constructive criticism would be much appreciated. Also, somewhat obviously, I don't own anything but the plot; if I did, you can damn well bet that I would not be writing fanfiction at all. Cheers.

**Chapter 1**

The house on the top of the hill looked like something conjured from a bad dream. Staring at it, George Weasley wasn't even properly certain that it could be called a house; made of dark stone, it was fully as large as Hogwarts and much more forbidding. Beside him, Fred was bent over wheezing, also staring at the monstrosity.

"Well," he remarked, almost casually. "At least it suits the landscape."

Fred snorted and didn't look at him, but after a moment, he straitened and nodded almost imperceptibly, and they set off again. From behind them, howls echoed.

"Fuck."

George couldn't have agreed more, and immediately began to pick up his pace. "Race you?"

"You're on."

If he hadn't known any better, he would have sworn that they had lost those damn dogs, and although he would rather die than admit it, George was terrified. At first, there had been an entire pack of them, but once they had crossed over that little stream and into this odd piece of country full of rolling (big) hills and patches of trees that neither had ever seen before, only two had managed to pick up the trail. Unfortunately, the two that were left were fully as large as grims, and much better hunters.

Fred and George, who had become rather expert at avoiding large dogs over the past few years, had been trying for hours to lose the monsters, but all they had managed was to stay one (short) step away from them. George knew that neither of them could keep up this gruelling pace for much longer, and knew that Fred had had the same thought, because they flattened into a dead run for the house at the same time as he did.

"Oh, for…" They were almost at the doors when they heard the frustrated scream. "Cut it _out_, you mangy morons!"

And behind them, the howls and wet, snuffling breaths that had seemed to follow them ever since that damned stream abruptly quit. Slowing to a stop, Fred looked at George with a raised eyebrow, and George shrugged. He didn't know either. Still trying to catch their breath, they turned back to watch the small hooded figure with a lantern come in from…well, from somewhere.

"Get your asses over here!"

And, interestingly enough, a whimper came from the darkness before two massive hounds came slinking into the circle of light, tails tucked between their legs. One whined.

"Don't give me that. I _heard_ the master telling you off the last time this happened. Do these _look_ like pointy-headed butt-munchers to you?"

This time the other whined.

"No!" the girl almost screamed. "You got a perfectly good deer this morning! And if you don't apologize this instant, I'll tell _him_ myself!"

George froze as the dogs immediately turned towards him and his twin. Evidently deciding to split things up evenly, one stepped in front of each of them, and they whined in unison. Then, while the twins were still frozen, Fred's hand got nudged and licked while George's face got patted with one surprisingly soft paw and then licked once, from chin to forehead. Then, still as one, the two massive hounds turned and slunk back into the night.

"I'm so sorry," the girl said, turning towards them. She couldn't have been more than fifteen years old. "They're not supposed to attack visitors…"

"It's okay," Fred assured her. "We got lost and didn't mean to trespass. Besides, it was kind of fun."

And by "fun", George knew that he meant that he wanted to collapse and never get up again.

The girl looked at them dubiously. "At least let me offer you a place to stay the night, since it was probably our fault that you got as _lost_ as you did."

Both of them looked at the forbidding walls apprehensively. They had learnt a long time ago not to accept gifts from strangers, especially not strangers that lived in dark forbidding stone buildings, but they were hungry, thirsty and exhausted. The odds of them surviving the night alone in that state weren't very good. After a moment, they shrugged.

'Thank you," George said quietly.

Behind them, the doors, which were almost twice as tall as they were, began to open silently. Smiling slightly, the girl led them in before stopping abruptly. It was probably a sign of how exhausted they were that the twins didn't notice the man standing in the middle of the hall until she spoke to him.

"Oy. You're home."

"Looks like," the man said calmly. "Guests?'

The girl sighed. "Yeah. Your damned dogs were…"

And here was where George lost all track of the conversation, because the man had finally turned around.

"Harry?" He asked mind reeling numbly at the sight of the man that the bulk of the wizarding world had thought to be a mass murderer. Beside him, Fred tensed to flee.

"Big brother," the girl said hesitantly. "Should I send them away?"

And the man shook his head, waving a hand as if it was of no consequence. "No," he said, to the twins' unending disbelief. "Let them stay the night."

Exhausted and still reeling, the twins allowed themselves to be lead to their beds and fell into them, not even bothering to look at their surroundings.

"Do you think that this is just a bad dream?" George asked Fred sleepily, just about to drop off.

"Don't think that our luck has been that good lately, honestly."

When they woke again, it was to find Harry sitting on an armchair not far away, reading a out of a book with a green cover. From where he was, George couldn't see the title, or even if there was one. Trying very hard not to be obvious about it, he studied the man in front of him.

If it hadn't been for the scar, neither twin would have recognized the man. In the ten years since the boy had disappeared from under the noses of both the Ministry and Dumbledore, he had grown up. His face was more angular, the hair longer, and even his eyes seemed different, although that could have been the lack of glasses. His clothes too had changed: he may still have been wearing old jeans and a sweatshirt, but at least they fit.

"You can stop pretending to be asleep now, you know," Harry said, and George almost leapt out of his skin at the sound of the calm, quiet voice.

"What do are you going to do with us?" Fred asked, much more subdued than normal. George could sympathize.

"I was hoping," the man across from them said, with a faint hint of irony, "That you would help me decide what to do with you."

What ever they had been expecting, it hadn't been that, and it was a moment before George could speak without fear of bursting into cynical laughter.

"You're asking?" he finally managed, while Fred was still staring on in what looked to be slightly hysterical shock. He counted it as a victory that neither of them burst into insane laughter at the thought of their opinion having anything to with it.

Harry raised an eyebrow, slightly. "I like my home," he said as if that explained everything. "Alone and solitary in the country. When one takes that fact into account, your presence becomes somewhat of an issue.

"As I see it, I can do one of two or three things. I could let you go on your way, on the assumption that my whereabouts wouldn't leak out to, say, Dumbledore. Of course this would probably require an oath or two on your part, but it is manageable. I could assume that you two are incapable of managing to keep the secret, and keep you here indefinitely, which is also doable. Not particularly pleasant, but doable…"

"And what if we don't like either of those options?" Fred asked, his own eyebrow raised.

"Then when you leave, you might have to worry that I might let it slip that I know where to find a pair of conjoined twins."

Then, as if he hadn't just casually managed to blow the top off of their most carefully guarded secret, he got up and turned to leave. "You are welcome to stay until you decide. If you need anything, just call for Nodder, and we'll see what we can do. And incidentally…"

They waited with baited breath.

"I haven't been Harry Potter in years. The name's Evinson. James Evinson."

Then, before they could do anything but catch the reference, he was gone.

"My head hurts," Fred moaned after a moment.

George didn't bother to respond, because by the time he rolled over to face his brother, he was fast asleep.

The next time that they woke again, they were alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time that they woke again, they were alone

**Disclaimer:** I do not, never have and never will own Harry Potter, no matter what I wish.

A/N: I hate to beg, but reviews _are_ welcome, since I any bit of constructive criticism helps. That being said, I hope you enjoy.

_**Chapter 3**_

_The next time that they woke again, they were alone. _

"Well," Fred said, looking at their surroundings. "I don't think that we're in Kansas anymore, Toto."

"And I think," George retorted absently as he sat up to look around, "That we're spending entirely too much time in the muggle world. Your jokes are terrible."

"Why, brother!" Obviously Fred was feeling better, which was what George had truly wanted to know. "I'm wounded! Hurt, shocked _and_ offended! You almost sounded like Percy!"

"As long as it wasn't Ron," George returned, and they both shuddered theatrically, despite the fact that no one else was around. It had been a long-held opinion between the two of them that if they couldn't act something up, it was because they were dead. They had yet to be proven wrong.

At the moment, neither of them could help but stare at their surroundings. It seemed to be some sort of lounge area, with a beaten-up couch and armchair not far from the pull-out couch that they were still laying on, all on some sort of indoor balcony that over-looked a large common area. All around were dusty bookshelves literally stacked with old-looking books and oddities that neither of them had ever seen. In the air, motes of dust danced in the golden light.

At the foot of the bed, they found a pile of clothes each (jeans, boxers, t-shirt and socks) and a piece of paper with directions to the nearest bathroom, and they took these, bickering good-naturedly all the while.

The walk was an eye-opener. The twins had been absolutely certain before that point that they would never see a place more convoluted than Hogwarts, but this "house" certainly took the cake. Odd-sized corridors, large open spaces, tiny cramped towers an halls that didn't lead where they were supposed to…all filled with bookshelves upon bookshelves that were stacked with each and every kind of knick-knack imaginable. Even with directions, they still got lost four times on their way to the nearest set of bathrooms.

As soon as they were finished their baths and were adequately dressed, they were confronted by the pushiest house-elf that either had ever seen. It was immediately apparent how he had gotten the name "Nodder"; he listened quietly to everything they said, nodding all the while. Then he immediately ignored it, and before long, he had called for "Master Jamie". "Master Jamie" listened carefully to the elf's quiet babbling, poked George in the ribs once, and sent for a healer.

The Healer, who was nothing like the two-knut healers that the twins had been frequenting for the past few years, as they found out two minutes after his rather prompt arrival, and he wasted no time in awing them with his sharp tongue. For the first time in years, the two meekly sat on the edge of their seats and answered the man's questions, feeling more than a bit like first years. Then, the old man had touched their foreheads, and when the twins woke _again_, they were feeling better than they had in years.

After that, they just gave up on trying to figure out what was going on. It seemed easier that way, especially as they seemed to have completely free reign of both the grounds and the house. If they showed up in the kitchens, there was food. In the bathroom, hot water and clean clothes. And no one was ever inconsiderate to actually make their beds once they had left them early in the morning. Even _Jamie _was completely different than expected, although the twins had figured that they should have at least expected that much.

When they had known him, the boy had been sharp, intelligent, and more than a little moody. Now, if they hadn't seen his scar first hand, they would never have suspected the connection, or even any connection at all. This man, "Jamie"(and wasn't it just the oddest thing to find themselves calling him that now), was still every bit as smart as they remembered, but it seemed that the intervening years had beat all the hot-headedness out of him, and managed to make him a lot easier to get on with. George didn't need to hear Fred say it to know that his twin was having more fun here than he'd had in five years, and to be quite honest, he agreed. He didn't know how the hell "Jamie" had managed to find this place, but it was like a dream come true.

Well, it was like _their_ dream come true, anyways.

Here, nobody was after their hides for some wrong, real or imagined (and most of them actually had the benefit of being real), and not only did they have free reign of the house and yards, but company that they didn't mind sharing it with either. Even Nodder, despite being the pushiest house elf that either could ever remember meeting, was surprisingly good company, being frighteningly intelligent, and with none of the oddness that had characterized Dobby. Cassie, to whom they had been introduced as soon as they were awake long enough to see her, was evidently Jamie's adopted sister, and evidently very lonely, as she spent almost every waking hour in their presence. Somehow, despite the fact that she was only sixteen, the girl had managed to come up with what seemed to be more common sense than Hermione had ever dredged up, and had an interesting, if cutting sense of humour as well. That and the fact that she helped with the dogs, horses and whatever other animals were in the stables or yards seriously impressed even Fred, to the point where he was actually willing to admit it, something that didn't actually happen all that frequently anymore.

Then again, it might also have something to do with the fact that she could tell them apart, which was something that not even their mother had ever managed on a regular basis. The first time that it had happened, actually, they had passed it off as blind luck. They did the same the second time as well. It wasn't until the third consistent "guess" that they decided that she might actually _know_, and to be quite honest it had been frightening. At least it had been until she had grinned and pointed a finger at her brother in explanation. Somehow, neither of the twins had any difficulty believing that he had any trouble at all telling which was which, since he could do it even while he was still at Hogwarts.

That didn't stop them from going outside to sulk for the rest of the day.

"We need to talk," George said bluntly, as they slipped into the small room that was currently serving as Jamie's reading room.

Jamie merely flipped a page and raised an eyebrow, all the while managing not to look at them. "You've made a decision then?" he asked, seemingly boredly.

Both George and Fred flinched, knowing perfectly well that they'd done no such thing. If they were going to be completely honest, and they weren't, they'd have to admit that they were enjoying their time away from the world far too much to want to decide on _that_ one. Unfortunately, they also had responsibilities, and one of the few things that they had learned over the past few years was that Dumbledore did not appreciate tardiness when it came to reports, no matter how good the reason was.

Still, they had no idea how to broach the subject with Jamie, seeing as how Dumbledore had been the one advocating putting him in Azkaban all those years ago.

"You want to send a letter to the order of the Flaming Chicken, don't you?"

God damn it. Why couldn't the man have been born a moron? It would have made life so much easier.

"Well…yeah," Fred mumbled.

"Go ahead."

They stared at him blankly, honestly not having expected that reaction, out of all possible scenarios.

"What?" George finally managed.

Jamie snorted. "I'm not going to insult your intelligence by pretending that you don't remember the conversation that we had when you first came here. Is that all you wanted to ask?"

"Actually…"

Fred smacked him upside the head to shut them up, and that had been that. At least until the owl that they had sent off had come back, literally reeling in the air.

"It almost makes one wonder what part of 'We're fine, don't come and find us' is really so hard to understand," Fred remarked, almost casually.

James Evinson did not look pleased.


	3. Chapter 3

In the end, Dumbledore decided on only three people

Disclaimer: I do not, never have and will never own anything that you recognize in this story, claims while under the influence of vodka non-withstanding.

To berkie88: The dogs thing was just a random passing fancy of mine, but the pushy house elves thing was based all those immigrant mothers who do everything around the house, and who will obey their husbands no matter what, but still manage to get their way in everything that they want. Besides, I just liked the idea, no matter how cliché.

To _7Kyuubi7_: Everything will get explained, I promise. I just really dislike random background at the beginning of stories, so I figured that I'ld write it in where it makes the most sense.

**Chapter 3 **

Although he would never admit it, Albus Dumbledore worried about the twins every time he sent them on a mission. He, more than anyone, knew just how talented the two were, even if there were days where their constant joking and assurances of being "fine" fooled even him. They were among his most trusted fighters against Voldemort, but still, he worried.

This time was worse than most. It had been a long time since they had simply disappeared without word, and the last time that they had had been…bad. And considering that this time he had sent them out into the lair of one of Voldemort's most trusted lieutenants, he was triply worried. Even their short note, well on three weeks after they were supposed to return did nothing to assuage his fears. Only two notes, that could have been coerced or literally meant anything, if anything made him even more worried. And so, in direct violation of what the twins had sent in their missive, he had placed a mild, relatively unknown charm on the owl that allowed him to see through its eyes.

He hadn't quite counted on the brief surge of magic that had left his unwilling helper and the images coming therefrom terribly and hopelessly confused. Still, he managed to hang on long enough to see something completely and totally unexpected; what seemed to be great and spacious dining hall, aflood with early morning light. Somehow, that only made him more nervous – since when had the twins _ever_ landed themselves in such a nice place.

In the end, Dumbledore decided on only three people. As he had explained to Alastor, it was few enough to be seen as harmless if all was well, and if it wasn't… Well, that really depended on the people.

He took Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger-Weasley and Severus Snape. All people in that could do wonders in a fight, and he trusted them all (and their judgement) implicitly. Besides, as all three were accomplished Legilimens, he would have no trouble giving them the image to which they were to apparate. He foresaw no trouble actually finding the twins either; they would just look around, and leave if all went well.

"Oh, good lord, there are _more_ of you."

Looking around, Albus realized that perhaps he had miscalculated. Far from being inside the large, airy hall that he had envisioned, they were in the middle of rolling hills the like of which he had never seen. In front of him were Fred and George Weasley, dressed in jeans and sweaters, not seeming to notice the considerable chill, playing a rather rough game of tug with two monstrous hounds. Two massive, grim-sized, black and tan hunting hounds. Even Ronald, who was known for his courage and fearlessness in battle, took a step back at the sight of them.

The man who had spoken was tall, dressed in jeans, a muggle t-shirt and well made but well-used wizarding robes, and was regarding them with a raised eyebrow that was as pitch-black as the rest of his hair.

Ronald Weasley, to whom the shot had almost certainly been directed, flushed and took a step forward.

"And just who are _you_?" he demanded.

The man, far from being intimidated by Ronald's sheer height, as most people were, actually smirked. Then the smile faded.

"_I_ am the owner of the property on which you are currently trespassing. Who are _you_?"

"You'll have to forgive our brother, Jamie," Fred (or George – to this day, it was impossible to tell them apart) said. "Most of the time, he's much more well-behaved."

At this Ronald's face turned beet-red, and, hoping to avoid the coming confrontation, Albus quickly changed the subject.

"Where are we?" he asked.

At this, the man smiled. "This is the apparition point on my grounds. Anyone who has to apparate here has to go through this point. Of course," and here his smile turned decidedly nasty. "Had Fred and George not actually _wanted_ to see you, the wards might have taken it as an attack…"

There was nothing at all subtle about the hint hidden in those words.

Trying another tack, Albus smiled invitingly, and, he hoped, calmingly. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I'm not sure that we've been introduced?"

The man appeared bored. "And these are Ronald Weasley, wife and Severus Snape. I've been informed."

"And might we have the pleasure of knowing who you are?" he said, praying for patience..

The man shrugged. "I'm just an old friend of the twins from their school days." There was obviously something deeper to the words, but Albus couldn't puzzle it out, and almost missed the rest because of it. "Although, I am rather disappointed that Severus hasn't recognized me yet."

Severus, who up to this point, had been watching with his usual intensity and aloofness, had frozen at this. Then his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched.

"James Evinson, you utter, complete _moron,_" he hissed.

And then, to the shock of all present, he stalked over and hugged the stranger fiercely. Albus thought that the day couldn't possibly hold any more surprises when the man returned the embrace.

Behind him, Albus heard Mister Weasley gag loudly as his wife shushed him.

"We will be speaking later," Severus threatened as they pulled apart, and Albus was very interested to see this James flinch and clear his throat.

"Fred, George," he called, and the twins looked up as the two hounds immediately stopped their game. "Do you mind taking your guests up to the house? I have some business to attend to."

The twins nodded.

"Thank you. Severus, if you want to come…?"

And Severus smiles, much to the consternation of Albus. "No, thank you," he responded. "At the moment, I am curious as to how _this_ conversation will go. Besides, I need the excercise."

James nodded graciously. "Until later, then."

And with that, he simply disappeared.

"Well then, let's get going," one of the twins said, far too cheerfully.

They soon found out what Severus had meant by "exercise". The "walk" was absolutely gruelling. Before long, Albus, who had always prided himself on being quite spry for his age, found himself wishing for a break.

"How far do we have left to go?" Hermione huffed from behind him.

Up ahead, one of the twins shrugged. "It's not that far."

"That's what you said half an hour ago," Ron muttered.

Again, the twin shrugged, still without looking back. "And was true half an hour ago. Of course, we normally run this, so maybe our timing is a little off."

"They _run_ this?" Hermione whispered incredulously.

And so continued the most arduous journey that Albus had taken in the last fifty years. Fred and George set a gruelling pace, stopping for rest infrequently and reluctantly, and whenever someone started to fall behind, they found a hound snapping at their heels. Only Severus didn't seem to be suffering under the pace and the indignity of it, but not even he could keep up with twins all the time.

Eventually, though, they came within sight of the "House," and all of them stopped in shock.

The thing was a monstrosity. Between its forbidding walls, dark stone walls and sheer size, they were uncomfortably reminded of Voldemort's current Fortress.

"Well then," he tried to say cheerfully. "Let's…"

Before he could finish, he felt something crash into his back and before he could process it, he was rolling down the hill.

"So, you mind telling us how you thought that 'We're lying low, don't contact,' meant 'Let's charge in and make arses of ourselves'?" one of the twins asked, almost casually. Everybody in the room knew that it was a ruse; they'd not seen the twins so angry in years.

"Don't look at me," Severus said from the obviously comfortable, obviously well-used black armchair in which he looked natural. Almost like he had used it many times in the past. Shifting in his own hard wooden kitchen chair, Albus fumed. He loved the man like a son, but sometimes the man could be simply infuriating. "All I was told was to prepare for a fight."

"Perhaps we should have this conversation in private," Albus suggested, with a pointed look at the figure sprawled across a nearby couch, trying to find a good way to get his children back into line.

"Uuuhhh…How about _no_?"

Albus sighed. "Fred…"

"Actually, I'm George."

"_Mister Weasley_. This is not debatable. We have serious issues to discuss."

"Like what?"

Albus stared in abject shock over the deliberate obtuseness of the two.

"Like the _information_ that you were sent to retrieve," he said, as if speaking to someone slow. "It is not a conversation to have in front of outsiders."

"And that's where I beg to differ," Evinson cut in. "You are in my home, trespassing on _my _property, interrogating _my_ guests. I am somewhat loathe to let you out of my sight."

"I'm sorry sir, but I really must insist. There's sensitive information…" that he had no intention of letting a civilian over hear. Maybe eventually the man would get the point if he just repeated himself enough times.

"Actually, Mister Dumbledore, I think that you're missing the point," Evinson said politely. "At this point, what you want doesn't really matter. You are a somewhat unwelcome guest, and as I am disinclined to trust you and your merry band of trespassers, I will stay. And since Fred and George will not be leaving, you are left with rather few options."

"You would keep your friends captive here, Mister Evinson?" Albus asked repressively, years of experience coming into use. Maybe if he could just distract the man…

"On the orders of Healer Jordan, yes. Have you met him? Older fellow, rather good with death threats?"

In point of fact, Albus _had_ met the man. They had not gotten on very well.

"Impossible," he told the insufferable man sprawled out in front of him. "Healer Jordan only takes the most serious of cases. The twins would hardly qualify for his requirements."

Still smiling, Evinson merely shrugged. "Think what you may, it doesn't change my point. Talk with me present or leave."

Helplessly, Albus stared at the man, and prepared to do exactly that.

Fred and George were angry, like they hadn't been in years. They realized perfectly well that Dumbledore had no way of understanding just how much danger that he had placed them in, but he had, and they had asked him not to come. After all this time, they had expected him to at the very least trust their judgement enough to listen to them. Evidently not.

"So," Fred said coolly. "You never _did_ explain how a message that told you that we were fine and not to contact us led you to do the exact opposite. One would think that the Headmaster of a prestigious school would, at the very least, be able to read."

Okay, so maybe George wasn't _that_ upset, but it was very satisfying to see both Jamie and Snape's lips curl like they were trying to repress smirks. Neither succeeded.

Naturally, Hermione exploded. "How dare you say that to him? Dumbledore has done more than anyone to keep you alive and off the street. You owe him your lives, and when he just wants to make sure that you two are alright, _this_ is how you treat him?"

The twins stared at her. Only the fact that they were used to this opinion stopped them from doing something horrendous, but that she had said it in front _these_ onlookers… "Excuse me?" George finally managed. "You think that we owe him our lives? I guess that we seem pretty funny to you now, since it _was_ your husband that essentially destroyed our livelihood and ability to find other work, and you that defended his right to do so, but please. Do _not_ pretend that any of you have anything to do with our lives."

"Besides which," Fred interjected, and George was glad that his brother had drawn the attention off of him, especially considering that he had just noticed Jamie's intense stare. "Our lives wouldn't need saving if you would finally getting around to weeding out whoever it is that keeps leaking information to the other side. This is the fifth consecutive 'mission' that you've sent us on where they've been waiting for us."

"Maybe you just haven't been careful enough," Ron said, almost smugly. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"Thus says the man that gave national secrets to a Death Eater by accident."

Face turning red, Ron drew his wand, and sent a wordless hex towards Fred, only to find himself being blown backwards. Fred, who hadn't been stupid enough to try magic in the presence of the owner of the house, not even anything so mild as a shield, just sat and laughed as he found both Dumbledore and Hermione's wands pointed at him.

"That's _enough_!" Jamie exploded. "You were invited into my house on the assumption that you were stupid enough not to attack anyone therein. As you are not, you will not remain. Severus, if you would come back later without your pet morons, you will be welcome."

As soon as Severus nodded his understanding, Nodder appeared, and with a wave of his hands, the three disappeared. It wasn't until they were gone that George realized that he was shaking.

"What the hell just happened?" Jamie asked them, eyes deadly serious.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 (In which he start to find out just what the hell has been going on for all these years)

**Chapter 4** (In which he start to find out just what the hell has been going on for all these years)

"_What the _hell_ just happened?" Jamie asked them, eyes deadly serious."_

Wrapping his arm around his twin's shoulders, trying to calm him down, George tried to think of a good answer when he didn't really know, himself. "How much of what's been going on in the Order do you know?"

Immediately, the man who had been Harry Potter shook his head. "Nothing. Where I was…Severus refused to tell me."

George smiled bitterly. "For a couple years after you disappeared, there _was_ nothing to tell. Things went on as they normally did, and everyone was still in shock about your supposed betrayal." Those who weren't, who still suspected something wrong about the entire matter, were in shock over the idiocy of the rest. Ironically, that had been the start of the truce between the twins, their least favourite professor and Alastor Moody. The controversy, though, had torn the Weasley family apart. Bill and Charlie had left the country in disgust, and their father had been reduced to a shadow of the man that he had once been. He had died barely two years later, and Fred and George hadn't wanted to leave before that. The rest, well, the rest had _believed_ it.

Even their mother, who had wrung her hands over the "tragedy" had no trouble believing that her precious Harry had been totally guilty. And Ginny, Ron and Percy…the twins didn't speak about them. Ever.

Glossing over all of that, George focused on concrete details. "We weren't winning the war, but there wasn't really a war then. Just random disappearances and dying muggles. Nothing like what it became."

Jamie watched with something disturbingly like understanding as George led his twin to an armchair and curled up with him like they hardly ever did since they had grown up. Normally, a confrontation with the Order wouldn't have left them in such bad shape, but they had both recognized the spell that Ron had fired, and to watch it coming while doing nothing had been frightening. Something that neither did willingly or well.

"And then?" Jamie prompted when it became clear that neither twin was going to speak.

"And then Ron graduated. You have to understand that after school, he hated you. Even after everything, everybody still remembered him as _your_ friend, and it cost him. Badly. When he tried to denounce you, not only was he your friend, but he was disloyal too. The idea of being some 'Light side general' appealed to him. And he was good at it.

"He was the one that _made_ it a war against Voldemort. He got the 'civilians' and Ministry in on it, so that we at least had allies, and got them organized so that we weren't losing as badly…"

"So what did he do to you?"

George inwardly cursed perceptive convicts with more brains than was good for them.

"The arse got sloshed inside a pub. Accidentally gave the location of the Minister's safe house to a Death Eater. It wasn't the disaster that it seemed; all he needed was a distraction to keep them busy while he moved the man. So he gave them us."

Fred looked up, and George didn't even need to look at him to recognize the look in his eyes.

"As soon as they tried to send you to Azkaban, we had the shop cursed. It was unfindable by anyone with a Dark Mark, and they drove themselves crazy trying to find us. Ron led them strait to the shop. Within three days, the shop and our home had been destroyed. We'd given so much to the Order that we literally had nothing left, and none of them could be bothered to help us. It took us three years to shake the worst of the hunters, and that was only because Severus gave us as many warnings as he could manage. Finally, we gave up and threw ourselves on the mercy of the Order, and in order for us to stay at the safe house, we had to run 'occasional missions' for them."

Jamie half-smiled. "So they sent you out for information that didn't really exist and blamed you when you didn't get it?"

George shrugged. "We tell them things that they don't want to hear, and when we're right, they blame us. We tried to leave, but Ron let it be known that we were associated with them, so no one will take us in, or hire us out of fear of getting in the middle of something. We literally have nowhere else to go."

And it wouldn't be that way forever, he swore to himself. As soon as they found a way, they were gone.

Ronald Weasley was blatantly, mulishly unhappy. He had been ever since the twins had disappeared without bothering to contact anyone. It was just like them to disappear just when their information was the most critically needed. The trip to find them had been even worse.

Ron knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he had a nasty temper, and that the twins, more than anyone else lately, had been the ones most likely to set him off. It didn't excuse anything, but he knew it. To have Severus Snape tell him that he had fucked up was completely unnecessary.

"I _know_," he said for what seemed like the millionth time to his old professor. "What else do you want me to say?"

"An explanation for why you tried to cast an Osseus Frango at your own brothers would be appreciated."

Somehow, Ron had forgotten that Severus could tell spells apart by the colours that they cast.

"That's not important right now," Dumbledore cut in over what was turning out to be a rather violent Order meeting. "How soon will we be able to get to the twins? Can you talk to this James Evinson?"

Severus snorted. "You and yours attacked his guests while he watched. He'll probably offer them sanctuary. And if you think that the twins don't know what curse you tried to cats on them, you are very much mistaken. You can bet that they are giving a lot of thought to their places within the Order."

"What if I apologize?" Ron asked helplessly.

"What makes you think that they're going to let you get close enough to try? You already tried to shatter their bones once."

And yes, Ronald Weasley knew that he had fucked up.

In the end, Fred and George spent the evening and most of the night talking to Jamie. Little, if any of it had to do with politics or current events, and they enjoyed the evening greatly.

It was hard to connect the man sitting in front of them with the moody, angry, terribly selfless boy that they had loved like a brother. Now, he was still brilliant, and mostly kind, but it seemed like time and healthy doses of pain had beaten sense and caution into him.

They could sympathise.

Still, when they finally retired for the night, they had no need to speak to know that their decision had probably just been made. At the very least, James Evinson hadn't tried to kill them.


End file.
